


My Boyfriend Was a Teenage Werewolf

by pohjanneito



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Bestiality, Grinding, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, They're high school seniors, Urination, Werewolf Biology, spoopy and lil gross, werewolf Richie gets territorial and pees on Eddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:27:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27304126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pohjanneito/pseuds/pohjanneito
Summary: Derry is no ordinary town, but the thing in the yard looks like it’s stepped out of an old Hammer film. It’s not a dog or a coyote or even a wolf. It’s acreature, the broad span of its shoulders and strangely elongated limbs almost human. It rises up on its hind legs andwalksacross the yard, climbing up to the front door.The lock rattles in its socket and Eddie runs into the kitchen, fumbling for the phone receiver. Should he call 911? Animal control? Maybe the nearest zoo?Or: Eddie finds out that his boyfriend is a werewolf.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 7
Kudos: 107
Collections: Monster Reddie





	My Boyfriend Was a Teenage Werewolf

**Author's Note:**

> This is a quick little Halloween fic that I wrote on a whim, because I've been playing a lot of Skyrim and love the werewolves in it :D Thank you to Selene for beta reading this for me!
> 
> **There's no penetrative sex but Richie is a werewolf throughout this fic, so make sure you note the bestiality and werewolf anatomy warnings! He also marks Eddie by peeing on him so. Yeah.**

“Are you sure you d-d-don’t want me to drive you home?” Bill asks, leaning against the porch railing. “It’s pretty foggy out here.”

Eddie lifts his bike up from the lawn and wipes the cuff of his sleeve against the layer of dew that’s gathered on the saddle. “Nah, it’s okay.” He doesn’t want to look like a wuss, especially in front of Bill, and it’s not like he hasn’t biked home in the dark before. “I’ll see you in Mrs. Hooper’s bio class on Monday.”

Eddie settles his feet on the pedals and waves at Bill over his shoulder, setting out into the dark October night.

It’s way past his usual curfew, but his mother is two whole states away, playing nurse for Aunt Susan who’s come down with a bad case of bronchitis. He’d been hoping to spend the weekend with Richie, but his jerk of a boyfriend has been avoiding him all day, disappearing somewhere between fourth and fifth period.

It’s not the first time either, because Richie’s been kind of flaky all week, skipping school and moping like some tortured creep in one of the Gothic horror novels they’d studied in Mr. Ellis’ English class this semester.

It’s fine. Eddie doesn’t care. At all. And they both know that Richie will come knocking on his window in a few days with a box of chocolates and an apology in his eyes.

Eddie is startled out of his thoughts by a shrill howl, coming from somewhere in the Barrens. He grips the handlebars a little tighter, looking around with frightened eyes. It has to be a stray dog, or maybe a coyote, because Eddie is pretty sure that there are no wolves in Derry. Yeah. Just a coyote.

Bill wasn’t wrong about the fog, though. It's a full moon, but Eddie can barely make out the houses as he bikes down Witcham Street, the chilly air nipping at his cheeks. There are pumpkins in every yard, the flames behind their carved smiles glowing like will-o’-wisps in the soupy mist.

Halloween used to be so cool. They'd dress up and go trick-or-treating, and even though Eddie's home-made costumes were never as cool as Bill and Richie's, he'd always score the best candy because housewives in Derry had a soft spot for big brown eyes and dimples.

He pedals a little faster when he reaches Neibolt Street, the tires of his bike skidding on wet asphalt. The old house at the end of the street looms large in the moonlight, a familiar shape from half-forgotten nightmares. Eddie almost can't believe that he’s been inside its rotting bowels, but he remembers the pain of broken bones and the stink of grey water, how Richie had wrapped his hands around a baseball bat and bashed it against something Eddie had done his best to forget.

He takes the shortcut through the train yard and his heart leaps into his throat when his eyes catch something on the other side of the tracks: a shadow with pale eyes, hunched between two spray painted train cars.

It’s definitely not a coyote, its long snout pointing towards the night sky as it lets loose a bone-chilling howl and begins to chase Eddie.

“Holy shit! _Holy shit!_ ”

Eddie stands up on the pedals, putting every single muscle in his legs to work as he zooms out of the train yard. He’s sure he’s breaking multiple speed records, going even faster than Bill’s Silver, but the thing keeps gaining on him, dead leaves rustling under its paws as it moves in the mist.

Why the hell didn’t he let Bill drive him home? And screw Richie, too! A box of chocolates isn’t going to fix shit if Eddie is eaten by some freaky mutt from Hell.

He makes it to his home street and the thing is still after him, its heavy breaths and wet snorts loud in the silence that hangs over the sleepy suburb. Eddie jumps off his bike, the wheels still spinning as he abandons it on the front lawn and makes a mad dash for the porch. He fishes out his house key and shoves it into the lock as the _clack clack clack_ of sharp nails on asphalt comes closer.

Eddie yanks the door open and slips inside, turning the lock with trembling fingers. His lungs feel like they’re about to collapse under his rib cage and he rushes to the bathroom, rummaging through the medicine cabinet until he finds one of his old inhalers. It’s been years since he’s tasted the menthol tang of camphor, and placebo or not, the medicine brings him down from the verge of panic.

He tiptoes back to the hallway and gathers enough courage to peek out through the small window on the front door. There’s no movement in the yard and Eddie is about to blame the whole thing on an overactive imagination when something emerges from the mist.

It shakes its shaggy mane and stalks to the driveway, pausing to sniff at the front wheel of Eddie's bike.

“What the hell _are_ you?”

Derry is no ordinary town, but the thing in the yard looks like it’s stepped out of an old Hammer film. It’s not a dog or a coyote or even a wolf. It’s a _creature_ , the broad span of its shoulders and strangely elongated limbs almost human. It rises up on its hind legs and _walks_ across the yard, climbing up to the front door.

The lock rattles in its socket and Eddie runs into the kitchen, fumbling for the phone receiver. Should he call 911? Animal control? Maybe the nearest zoo?

The door handle goes suddenly still and Eddie’s finger freezes on the rotary wheel. There’s a flash of dark fur behind the frilly curtains in the window, followed by the sound of something sharp dragging against the mosquito net on the screen door.

Eddie drops the receiver from his hand, the muffled _beep, beep, beep_ of the dial tone matching the wild beats of his heart.

There's a hulking shape behind the door, staring into the house.

Eddie can’t make out any details, just two lupine eyes in a canvas of dark fur and puffs of moist air misting in the moonlight. The door is locked, but there’s a key under the flower pot on the porch railing and Eddie’s eyes widen with disbelief when the creature knocks it over with its paw. It digs through the mess of dirt and dead petunia leaves and picks up the key with two sharp claws.

“What the--?”

How the hell did it know about the key? Only Bill, Stan and Richie have ever seen Eddie take it out from its hiding place.

Eddie doesn’t stick around to see if the beast can actually use it. He bolts upstairs and runs into his room, his breaths wheezy with mounting panic as he slams the door shut.

“Gotta hide, gotta hide!”

His options are limited to the overstuffed closet and the narrow gap under his bed and he drops down to his knees, lifting the tartan valance as the stairs outside of his room creak under heavy steps.

Eddie’s nose tickles with dust bunnies as he tries to crawl underneath the bed and he’s almost out of sight when his ass bumps against the edge. “Fuck!” He tries again, his sneakers skidding against the floor, but it’s no use, and the bottom half of his body is still exposed when the hinges of his door wail in the terrible silence.

The creature steps inside, panting heavily, no doubt eyeing Eddie’s supple thighs like a tasty treat.

And Eddie can’t believe this is how he’s going to die. Squeezed between Cluedo and a box of Legos with some horror movie reject about to rip him open and feast on his insides. He squeezes his eyes shut, a hot stream of tears leaking down his cheeks as the creature stalks closer.

It lets loose a hungry rumble and drags its claws against Eddie’s calf, closing its hairy fingers around his ankle. It sniffs the air and shoves its long snout between Eddie’s thighs, nosing at the back of his jeans.

“Aaah!”

Eddie squirms and kicks his feet, managing to knock his sneaker against the beast’s flank. It lets out an annoyed grunt and Eddie claws at the floor as he’s dragged out from his hiding place and spun onto his back.

He stares up with watery eyes, pinned under the beast’s heavy weight as it looms over him, its broad shoulders shifting under torn shreds of a Hawaiian shirt and--

Wait.

“What the fuck?” Eddie squeaks, taking his first proper look at the creature.

There’s nothing familiar about its canine face or the sharp row of teeth between its jaws, but Eddie has definitely seen the garish banana-yellow shirt that hangs over its shoulders and the ripped t-shirt underneath it advertises a healthy smile provided by one Wentworth Tozier.

“Richie?”

The creature--no, not a creature, _Richie_ , lets out a snort and presses his cold, wet nose against Eddie’s neck, giving his jugular a little lap.

“Wait, what? You’re a werewolf now?!” Eddie gasps, blinking at Richie with stunned eyes. “Is _this_ why you’ve been acting like a total weirdo all week?”

Richie cocks his head and shrugs his shoulders in a way that’s way too human for someone who’s covered in a thick coat of fur.

Eddie blows out a relieved breath at the knowledge that he isn’t going to be eaten in the next five minutes.

“Jesus fucking Christ you scared me!”

Richie gives Eddie’s neck another lick, the tilt of his brow apologetic. Eddie shifts under his heavy bulk, taking in the sheer size of his boyfriend. The last time he saw Richie, he was about thirty pounds lighter and considerably less hairy.

“I can’t believe I’m dating a werewolf…” Eddie glances at the moon that shines through the elm outside his window. He has no idea how long Richie has been turning into Wolfman, but this’ll definitely take more adjusting than his sophomore year hair metal phase.

Richie breathes in Eddie’s scent, the slash of his pupils spreading over his yellow irises as he drags his elongated fingers across Eddie’s belly.

Eddie squirms under Richie’s piercing gaze. He knows Richie would never hurt him, but it’s clear that he’s no domesticated puppy, and Eddie’s mind fills with quiet trepidation as he watches Richie loom over him, his black gums and sharp teeth on full display.

Richie shoves his snout under the collar of Eddie’s hoodie, his ears flattening against his head.

“Richie? Wha-what are you doing?” Eddie squeaks, letting out a nervous giggle.

Richie ignores him, the moist drag of his tongue sending a shiver down Eddie’s spine. His fur seems to bristle as he sniffs along the collar of Eddie’s shirt, visibly unhappy with something.

“What? Are you trying to tell me I stink?” Eddie huffs, a little self-conscious. “I’m not the one whose breath smells like roadkill.”

Richie digs his teeth into the fabric of Eddie’s hoodie and gives it a yank, the seams tearing from the force of it.

“Hey, you’re gonna rip it!” Eddie complains, smacking his palm against Richie’s muzzle to shove him away.

Richie resists, tearing at Eddie’s shirt like an ill-mannered mutt, the look in his lupine eyes almost territorial. Eddie tries to understand the bizarre behavior, but it doesn’t make any sense because the only thing Richie can possibly smell is Eddie’s own scent and maybe…

“Bill’s house? Is that what’s got you all worked up? You smell Bill in my clothes?” 

Richie lets out a displeased growl, settling a possessive paw over Eddie’s chest. He’s always been a little weird around Bill, riling him up and getting into stupid scuffles almost like it’s supposed to impress Eddie.

Eddie rolls his eyes, about to shove Richie off when he feels something warm and wet splatter against his lap. He looks down and stares at the dark stain seeping into his jeans.

“What the fuck, Richie! Are you--are you peeing on me?!”

He totally is, letting out a pungent stream of piss all over Eddie’s crotch.

“Ugh! That’s so gross!” Eddie gags. He gives Richie an angry shove, but Richie pins him against the floor, snapping his jaws in front of Eddie’s face.

Eddie goes still, a startled little whimper slipping from his lips.

It’s just a warning, but Eddie gets the message, and he doesn’t have to be an expert in werewolf behavior to understand that Richie is laying claim to him.

“Okay, okay, you overgrown fuzzball. Since when are you so territorial?” Eddie huffs, running his fingers between Richie’s pointed ears.

His jeans cling to his thighs, the fabric stiff and soaked through, and it’s gross as hell, but the knowledge that he’s been marked in such an intimate way makes Eddie's stomach ache with arousal.

It catches Richie’s attention almost immediately and his mouth curls up into a hungry snarl. He moves down, sniffing at the mess between Eddie’s thighs, his tail wagging behind his back. Eddie tries to close his legs, but Richie forces them apart with the wide span of his shoulders, licking his chops.

“H-hey, wait--”

Richie shoves his face into Eddie’s crotch, grunting against the soft flesh of his inner thigh as he scents him like some wild beast. And that’s exactly what he is, sharp-clawed and untamed.

Eddie hides his flushed cheeks behind his palms, his sneakers knocking against the arch of Richie’s back as Richie noses under his shirt, his snout poking at his armpits like the stink of Eddie’s sweat is something to enjoy.

Eddie squirms and lets out a startled peal of laughter. “Ah! That tickles!”

Richie has always been kind of gross, eating weird shit on a dare and keeping a collection of half-chewed gum under his desk in homeroom, but licking Eddie’s pits definitely takes the cake. He begins to hump Eddie’s leg and Eddie peeks between his fingers when he feels something hard against his shin.

“W-what’s that?”

Richie pulls his head away from Eddie’s armpit and glances at the red thing unsheathing from the mass of dark fur between his thighs, thick and long and oddly tapered at the end.

“Wait, is that your…?” Eddie’s face flushes with heat, a lick of arousal spreading through his groin.

Richie’s eyes flash in the pale moonlight and it almost looks like he’s smiling, his tail thumping against the floorboards. He flips Eddie onto his belly and uses his teeth to yank his soiled jeans down, just enough to stick his snout between Eddie's cheeks.

“Richie, wait, wait--ah!”

Richie drags his coarse tongue over Eddie’s hole, and it should be gross, because who knows what Richie’s been sticking into his mouth tonight, but Eddie breathes out a muffled moan and pushes his ass up in a quiet plea for more.

Richie lets out a moist snort against Eddie’s tailbone and Eddie can picture the smug look on his stupid hairy face.

“Shut up…”

They’ve never done anything like this and the whole thing is so deprived, but Eddie’s thighs strain against the wet fabric of his jeans as he tries to part them wider, grinding against Richie’s tongue.

Richie gives Eddie’s left asscheek a playful nip and his shadow stretches over the posters on the walls as he settles on Eddie’s back. He’s a little gangly even as a werewolf, but Eddie feels engulfed by his presence, caged between his hairy limbs.

Richie ruts against him, something hard and wet and _tapered_ poking against Eddie’s hole.

“Richie, wait, no! You can’t do that,” Eddie gasps, struggling under Richie’s bulk. “You’ll hurt me.”

Richie laps at Eddie’s neck and gives him a gentle poke with his nose.

_I’ll never hurt you, Eds._

He thrusts down, almost knocking the air out of Eddie’s lungs, but he doesn’t push inside, content to simply grind into the cleft of Eddie’s ass.

“Oh. Well. Okay,” Eddie pants, handing the reins over to Richie.

Richie buries his snout into the crook of Eddie’s neck, nosing at his jawline, and there’s nothing human in the way he moves. It’s fast and uneven and _so messy_ , the wet stream of slick that leaks out of his cock smearing all over Eddie’s buttocks.

The room smells like a rank mix of musky fur and… piss. Eddie tries to hate it, but his cock is so hard, slapping against his belly from the force of Richie’s rutting. Richie has always been a real horndog, but he's never been this unhinged, his deep grunts a constant reminder that Eddie’s being mounted by a wild beast.

He thinks of taking Richie inside of him, how he’d stretch him out and fill his belly with his beastly release. The coil of pleasure in his gut comes loose at the thought and he trembles under Richie’s chest as he comes all over the lacquered floorboards.

Richie yanks his face away from Eddie’s neck and scents the air, his jaws parting around a satisfied growl at the smell of Eddie’s release. He folds his too-long arms around Eddie’s chest and lets loose a shrill _awoooo_ , something hard and bulbous pulsing against Eddie’s hole.

Richie sits up and pulls Eddie into his lap, the wet flood of his release spilling _everywhere_ , the small of Eddie’s back, his cleft and even the piss-stained jeans bunched around his thighs. 

“Oh my God… We’re gonna have to bleach the entire room after this.”

Richie flicks his tongue behind Eddie’s ear, visibly pleased with the mess he’s made. He’s still half-hard, the strange knot on his dick twitching between Eddie’s cheeks as he shoots out another spurt of come.

A few minutes pass and Eddie begins to fidget. He tries to squirm away from Richie’s lap, nudging him with his elbow, but Richie lets out a low growl and nips at Eddie’s shoulder.

“Ow, you asshole,” Eddie grumbles, slumping against Richie’s chest.

It’s been almost twenty minutes when Richie finally unfolds his arms and allows Eddie to move. He flicks his tongue against his nose, the look in his yellow eyes sated. He tries to poke his head between Eddie’s messy thighs, but Eddie smacks his palm against Richie’s snout.

“No way, Cujo! Don’t even think about licking me clean like some savage beast.” He kicks his jeans off and wrinkles his nose at the mess Richie has made of his fur, wet and matted with his release. “We’re taking a proper bath.”

Richie huffs through his nostrils, but he follows Eddie into the bathroom, letting Eddie help him out of what little remains of his torn clothes. He’s way too big for the bathtub, his bushy tail hanging over the edge as they sit nose to nose in the soapy water.

“This is so weird _,”_ Eddie snorts, shaking his head.

And if someone had told him that he’d be ending the day in a bathtub with his werewolf boyfriend, lathering his fur with rose-scented bubbles, well, maybe he would have believed them, because stranger things have happened in Derry.

It takes ages to get Richie’s fur dry and it’s almost one in the morning when Eddie finally crawls under the sheets. Richie looms at the end of his bed, his tongue lolling out between his teeth. He shoots Eddie a pleading look and the fact that he has actual puppy dog eyes makes it pretty effective.

“ _Fine_.”

Eddie lifts the corner of his blanket and pats at the empty spot on the mattress. Richie dives in, curling his hairy limbs around Eddie, the way he pokes his tongue against the corner of Eddie’s mouth almost like a kiss.

Eddie gives his left ear an affectionate scratch, smiling at the way Richie’s tail wags against the mattress. “You’d better not have fleas or I’m shaving you bald before you can shift back.”


End file.
